


"Tell me what you want" or "Potions are the best aphrodisiac"

by Foolsparsley (Freckleberg)



Series: Contact [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Banter, F/M, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia's Black Eyes, I'm Bad At Tagging, My First Smut, Smut, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Vulnerable (ish) Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, seriously these two are just fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25361404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckleberg/pseuds/Foolsparsley
Summary: On a dark and stormy night, Geralt returns from slaying a beast, to find a waiting Yennefer. Banter, magic and sex ensue. Pure, plotless smut.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Contact [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850092
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	"Tell me what you want" or "Potions are the best aphrodisiac"

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfiction in a long time, but then suddenly felt inspired to write some truly pointless, not even thinly veiled, Witcher smut. All feedback welcome.
> 
> If you want to place this somewhere in canon, for the Netflix series it takes place somewhere between "Bottled Appetites" and "Rare Species". For my little series of one-shots "Contact", that attempts to fill in some of the history of this tumultuous pair. 
> 
> \--

Yennefer waited alone, in a small cabin arranged for her by the local lord, while the wind and the rain lashed the windows and whipped branches from the trees outside. She was distracted, agitated, worried even. She glanced at the candle on the table beside her; it was burnt almost down to the base. _He should have been back by now,_ she thought. She appeared relaxed - lounging across a chair with her back against one of the arms and her legs hanging over the other, a book resting in her lap - but inside, her stomach was churning and her skin prickling. The wind shuddered along the windows again and the rain pounded like stones being thrown against the cabin walls. She flipped absently through pages in her book, her eyes unable to take in the words. _Why wasn't he back? Had something gone wrong? Was this finally the beast-_

The door to the cabin flew open, hitting the wall with a crash and making the whole place shudder. The wind and rain rushed in, cold wild air assaulting Yennefer where she sat. Striding through the doorway, there he was - Geralt of Rivia. Steam rose off his body. His arms and shoulders shuddered with deep, heavy breaths through gritted teeth. His shirt was splattered with blood. His white hair was dark with rain and dirt, and slick against his cheeks. His eyes were deep black from the toxins of a potion.

Yennefer shot to her feet, the book tumbling from her lap to the floor. She felt the spark of adrenaline rush through her body, as her anxiety was replaced by a powerful flood of relief. _He's alive, he's safe, he's back._ Regaining composure, she motioned a hand to the cabin door, magically closing it behind him. "You let the rain in," she said.

Geralt reached back and yanked from his belt two enormous, hairy, three-pronged paws and threw them to the floor in front of her. "Here, proof of the kill," he said, his already gravelly voice deeper with the lingering effects of the potion.

Yennefer levitated the severed paws to eye level so she could inspect them. "Excellent," she said. "Good work, witcher." She waved her hand to send the paws off to an open chest in the corner, and then shut the lid tight. Geralt walked closer to her, pulling off his outer shirt - light chainmail armor and leather - to reveal a soaked white undershirt below. Even under the scent of mud and dead monster parts, she could still smell his sweat - salty, familiar.

And blood, she could smell his blood. She closed the distance between them, her hands moving swiftly across his chest - the bloody shirt - and up to his neck, where there was a huge raw gash just below his jaw. "You're hurt," she said, her tone annoyed, but in truth, she felt another rush of fear - a little lower and the beast could have severed an artery. Even with his slow heartbeat, he could have bled out. She waved her hand again to summon a basin and a cloth to clean the wound.

"It's fine," Geralt said. "It'll make another nice scar." Yennefer ignored him and pressed the wet cloth to his skin to clean the wound. "What," he asked. "Were you worried about me?"

"No," she said.

"Liar," he growled.

Her eyes darted up to meet his, and before she could stop herself she looked into his mind, his senses becoming her own: _the heat of warm blood rushing through veins, adrenalin prickling through skin, and the beating of a loud, fast, heartbeat._ Her own. He could hear her heart racing. It had given her away.

"Fine, yes I was worried," she said. "Not about you _per sey_ , but it would weigh on my conscience to think I had sent you to your death."

He laughed - or growled - and grabbed her hips, pulling her against him. Yennefer dropped the wet towel she was holding. She held her arms up against her chest, putting a little space between their faces, but she could still feel his hot breath blow across her cheek to rustle the hair by her ear. She felt his chest and stomach pressed against her arms, his skin warm despite the cold wet shirt still clinging to him. She could feel his heartbeat now too - slow, steady, and strong. He leant towards her, bringing his mouth close to hers, waiting for her to give in to him. Yennefer pushed him away, stepping back, fighting to regain composure.

Geralt followed her, catching her wrist and gently pulling her back towards him. "Going to tell me why you wanted that thing dead?" He asked.

"I told you," Yennefer said, "Lord Danovin wanted the beast killed, and I promised to arrange it, in exchange for some information I want."

"Oh, so _I_ risked my life for something _you_ want," he said, he had somehow pulled her back against him, his arms encircling her on either side so she couldn't pull away again. He looked down into her eyes, then past them to her lips, her jaw, her collarbones and down to her breasts: Yennefer watched as he traced his gaze across her body. "And what about what _I_ want?" he asked. This time she didn't even try to read his mind, his thoughts rushed into her like a vivid prophecy: _throwing her on the bed, tearing off her clothes, biting into her shoulder until she cried out in pleasure and pain_. She felt a deep burning desire - both his and her own - consume her thoughts. She didn't want to fight it anymore, she wanted to give in.

When they kissed it was hard and rough, his stubble grazed across her cheeks. She could taste the bitter herbs of the potion he took, still on his tongue. She felt a rush of power through her body, as that little taste of the potion affected her too. The hunter with his prey, Geralt seemed to sense her change. He grabbed her with both hands and pushed her back against a nearby table. The little glass vials of make-up and herbs that Yennefer had arranged there went flying. She just had time to freeze them mid-air so they didn't fall and shatter, before Geralt pushed her down, her back smacking against the tabletop, and pressed himself on top of her. It was shocking, but it excited her too.

Geralt pulled back and met her eyes, his own dark black eyes searching, worried. "Yen - the potion," he said. "I can still feel it - I might go too far."

Yennefer clutched at the front of his wet shirt with both fists, pulling her body up to meet his. "You won't," she said. He didn't need any further convincing. He forced his mouth against hers again, with kisses that were rough and careless. Yennefer pulled his shirt over his head and arms, before turning her hands to her blouse and unfastening the ties to reveal her breasts. Geralt growled, moving his mouth from hers to kiss along her jaw, her neck, and down to her chest. She arched her back, pushing her body towards him. No matter how many times she had him, she always wanted more. He was getting rougher, her desire feeding his own. He bit down on her collarbone, she cried out. With a wave of her hand, she summoned leather restraints that lashed around his wrists by magic and pulled him back, so he was standing, bound, in front of her.

"Yen, fuck," Geralt cried, shaking his wrists against the restraints like a chained animal. "Let me go!"

Yennefer, still lying on the table, propped herself up on her elbows and leaned back to catch her breath. _What a sight,_ she thought. Geralt, his arms bound and pulled towards the rafters, his forearms, biceps, and shoulders straining as he tried to break free. His hair, heavy and wet, slick against his cheeks and neck. That gash below his jaw, clean now but still bright red. His bare chest, scarred and taught. His dark black trousers, still on, clinging to his thighs and straining to contain his full erection. _Bet he looks good from behind as well,_ she thought. "Geralt, turn around a little will you," she instructed. "Let me see your arse in those pants."

"Yennefer, free me!" He raged.

Yennefer smirked, pushing aside her blouse, so he could see both her breasts and her stomach as she reclined in front of him. She slowly ran her fingers down her breastbone towards her navel and back, holding his attention. "Geralt, you seem agitated, is there something that you want?"

"I want you to free me," he said. "Then I want to throw you on that table and fuck you till you scream."

Her heart pounded in her chest. "What's the magic word?"

"Fuck your magic word," Geralt growled. He pulled hard against the straps she had enchanted to restrain him, until the leather snapped.

Then he was on her. He pushed her back on to the table, hiked her skirt up with one hand and released his trousers with the other, and then roughly thrust inside her. Yennefer cried out again, in pleasure and pain. She wrapped her legs around his waist, determined to hold him as close as possible. She felt her body burning even hotter than before. She felt hungrier too, greedy even. Like an animal that finally gets its meal, and is then is too stupid to stop itself wolfing down the whole thing. Geralt held her, forcefully, moving her the way he wanted. One hand under her skirt at the top of her thigh, forcing her against him with each thrust. The other hand behind her head, at the base of her neck, both protective and possessive. Her skin burned everywhere he touched.

It wouldn't be long before they were both at the edge - she couldn't control herself with him, nor he with her. He moved faster against her, and she gripped his arms so tight her fingers turned white. "Don't stop," she whispered. As she got close, the only thing she could focus on was the heat between them. Nothing else mattered. The little glass vials she had frozen in mid-air suddenly came crashing to the ground, released from her spell, shattering on the floor.

Then, just as they both reached climax, there was a snapping, splintering sound as the table collapsed under them. Geralt, his reflexed lighting fast, flipped her over so he was beneath her, to break the fall - just as Yennefer waved a hand to levitate them both up and out of harm's way. They hung there, five feet in the air, she on top of him, his arms wrapped protectively around her, both breathing heavily. When her breathing had slowed, Yennefer put her palms against Geralt's chest and pushed herself upright. "You didn't need to protect me, witcher," she said. "I had it under control."

Geralt smirked, glancing at the broken glass vials on the floor below them. "Didn't look like it, " he said.

Yennefer scoffed and with a wave of her hand, the little shards of glass rushed back into their proper form, scooping up their spilled contents as they did, and then floated back on to the newly reformed table. "See? All better."

Geralt gave her a wry smile, his eyes starting to clear and return to their usual tawny colour. "And, are you going to let us down?" he asked, looking at the floor far below them.

Yennefer motioned them back down to earth, and in the same movement, enchanted away Geralt's boots and trousers, which had still been around his ankles. "Those need a good wash," she declared. "As do you." As if by magic - which it was - the bathtub in the corner of the room began to steam with fresh hot water. "Your clothes will be clean and ready for you by morning."

Geralt raised an eyebrow. "By morning," he said. "Yen, is that your way of asking me to stay the night?"

"Come now I don't _ask_ ," she said. "I simply _get_ what I want."

He bent low to kiss her, softly this time, one hand on her cheek and the other at her waist, pulling her closer. "And what about what I want?" he asked. She saw into his thoughts again: _soaking in a warm bath with his arms wrapped around her naked shoulders, the feel of sheets and a proper bed for the first time in weeks, sex again perhaps, before falling asleep with her head against his chest, and waking to a midday sun streaming through the window and glinting off her bare skin like gold._

Yennefer smiled, and magically dissolved away her clothes. "I believe your wishes can be accommodated," she said.

\- END -

**Author's Note:**

> \--
> 
> Hope you liked it. Comments are love.


End file.
